"You hear that question, Benson?" said the chief constable. "Did you notice anything strange about Mr. Ronald's conduct when first he came to the inn or at any time?" "I cannot say I did, sir. I thought he looked very tired when he first came into the inn, and his eyes were heavy as though with want of sleep." "He seemed quite sane and rational?" "Quite, sir." "Did you notice any symptoms of mental disturbance or irritability about him at any time?" struck in Sir Henry Durwood. "No, sir. He was a little bit angry at first when I said I couldn't take him in, but he struck me as quite cool and collected." Sir Henry looked a little disappointed at this reply. He asked no more questions, but entered a note in a small note-book which he took from his waistcoat pocket. Mr. Cromering intimated to the innkeeper that he had finished questioning him, and would like to examine the waiter, Charles. "If you wouldn't mind pulling the bell-rope behind you, sir," hinted the innkeeper. In response to a pull at the old-fashioned bell-rope, the stout country servant, who had been washing greens in the kitchen, entered the room. "Where is Charles, Ann?" asked the innkeeper. "He's in the kitchen," replied the woman nervously. "Then tell him he is wanted here immediately." "You run your inn in a queer sort of way, Benson," remarked Superintendent Galloway, in his loud voice, as the woman went away on her errand. "Why couldn't Charles have answered the bell himself, if he is in the kitchen? What does he wait on, if not the bar parlour?" "Charles is stone deaf, sir," replied the innkeeper. CHAPTER VIII The man who entered the room was of sufficiently remarkable appearance to have attracted attention anywhere. He was short, but so fat that he looked less than his actual height, which was barely five feet. His ponderous head, which was covered with short stiff black hair, like a brush, seemed to merge into his body without any neck, and two black eyes glittered like diamond points in the white expanse of his hairless face. As he advanced towards the table these eyes roved quickly from one to the other of the faces on the other side of the table. He was in every way a remarkable contrast to his employer, and a painter in search of a subject might have been tempted to take the pair as models for a picture of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. "Take that chair and answer my questions," said Mr. Cromering, addressing the waiter in a very loud voice. "Oh, I forgot," he added, to the innkeeper. "How do you manage to communicate with him if he is stone deaf?" "Quite easily, sir. Charles understands the lip language--he reads your lips while you speak. It is not even necessary to raise your voice, so long as you pronounce each word distinctly." "Sit down, Charles--do you understand me?" said the chief constable doubtfully. By way of helping the waiter to comprehend he pointed to the chair the innkeeper had vacated.